I looked around the quiet hall. Shadows stretched across the stairs, watery gray shapes cast by the early morning sunlight which crept in from the manor's other rooms. A few boxes were stacked along a wall nearest the front doors. These were crated with artifacts resulting from my recent research in the Arts and would go to benefit and enrich Frost Enterprises. The rest of Dark Lake Manor remained intact.

There was the temptation to pull it down around me, give the formidable pile of history and stones to fire and leave only the lake and trees behind, even as my mother had. But time had dulled the lash of my pride and temper. I had no heirs now, of course, but Hell, maybe one of the street rats would return to claim the mountains of Spire some day. If not, there were those who had always been welcome here, those who might claim it as sanctuary, a haven from that which hunted them. The wards here would stand even in my death. I had made sure of that.

The sharp smells of approaching spring greeted me as I stepped outside. The seasons were changing, I knew, and I could not hold them back.

The ambassador, Thraci, was a petite woman, human, with dark skin, dun hair twisted up into a bun, and gray, kohl-lined eyes. At the moment, she was laughing with a complete lack of decorum, and her pristine silk suit was in danger of being ruined by the coffee she precariously held. I stared at her, and after a while, she subsided. Still smiling, she exclaimed, "Lady Skye, surely you jest!"

I smirked and said, "Ambassador, you of all people should know how rarely I jest."

"Granted, granted." Thraci said. She sipped her coffee. "Are you sure I can't get you any tea? I have some Sethillian Bloodspice Tea -- I know how rare that's become in Rhydin since the Emperialle put up the shadow blockade. Or maybe some brandy?"

"Even if I wasn't immune, you were never subtle enough for poisoner's work, Thraci." I tried not to roll my eyes and waited.

"You can't blame me for trying." The ambassador giggled. "But it's incredible that you design to return to Rhilshen. You're an exile. You have a fine life here. . . and you know the penalties, Alysia."

"I've broken exile twice before and am none the worse for wear." I countered evenly. For a moment, I watched the bustle of the Rhydin streets outside; there were a couple of men debating loudly as they walked, heading in the direction of the courthouse. I looked at Thraci again and could not hide the bitter resignation in my throat. "I also know the exceptions to my exile. I do not return to claim the throne or to instigate rebellion. I merely wish to go home to die."

"To die." The ambassador murmured that slowly. She leaned forward and peered closely, thoughtfully at me. "Do you know, I believe you when you say that. Yet I thought your kind were immortal. Ageless. Undying."

"No, merely long-lived, Ambassador." I smiled slightly, feeling ice in my blood. "All that lives must die." Oh, the irony for me to repeat that statement, I thought. "I weary of life."

"I can't even imagine living more than a hundred years, much less five hundred. Well, time changes all, they say." The dun-haired woman looked melancholy. She sighed heavily, set her coffee aside, got to her feet and paced. "Alysia, I can authorize your travel if you will agree to an Imperial escort to . . . to the place you are going. But the shadows are blocked against you, all of them."

"I can take a ship. The sea ways are free, and there are Brikarthan merchant ships in port."

Thraci frowned and stopped her pacing. "My dear, you are known to them. You must know that no ship will be willing to risk the Emperialle's ire by helping you break exile, even if you have a visa."

I forced a smile. "Let me find a ship. I'll agree to your escort, Ambassador -- I'll travel in chains if I have to. "

She looked surprised at that, but recovered quickly. "Very well, my dear. I will put off notifying the Central Province as long as possible - how slow the official couriers are these days! - and I'll try to secure an escort for you from Mynw. You'll have time to say your goodbyes here."

Time to say goodbye. . . I winced. That was something I had wanted to avoid.

"You've taken care of everything you need to, then. Paid your taxes, locked up the house, said your goodbyes?" Thraci wore a dry melancholy expression as she stood upon the dock. Behind the Ambassador stood two legionnaires in Imperial red and gold. One was human, the other likely an elvish half-breed. Both looked at me with fawning disbelief and I tried not to roll my eyes.

"Master Fargrin has his instructions regarding managing the estate." I answered Thraci, muttering something about it being held in trust. I thought about my ironic lack of an heir. Around me, the sounds of commerce grew as dawn approached the city of Rhydin.

"And?" She pressed, interrupting my woolgathering. "Alysia? Everything else is taken care of?"

"And -- and I bid the barrister adieu. It was long past time for that farewell, anyway. The others, no, I was too much a coward. I fear they would try to stop me. They're loose ends, but it seems self-indulgent to make a fuss about it, anyway. If I wanted to make a scene, I'd have found some bravo to cut my throat or slit my own wrists."

"Very well. And if these others, these loose ends should come looking for you?" asked the Ambassador. She turned her gray eyed gaze upon me, adjusted a jeweled brooch pinned near her shoulder.

"Tell them what you will, Thraci. It does not matter to me. " Suddenly impatient to get underway, I nodded toward the legionnaires flanking Thraci. "Is this my official escort?"

"They are. They are to accompany you to the Dragonspine, then they will return to Mynw. They understand they are not to impede your travel. This should help you across the borders." The ambassador held out a sheaf of scribed vellum, each page embossed with seal of Rhilshen. She bowed low as I took it, and I was amused by her sudden formality.

I'd spent the remaining week or so in my cabin, drifting in and out of a self-induced trance. One of the Legionnaires was always nearby, usually Vich, but sometimes it was the other one, Hazel. I think one of them sang at night, old Brikarthan songs that my Bloodsinger had breathed across my cheek at night.

At some point, I had heard the two of them arguing with the ship's captain over whether or not I had fallen victim to the Shadow Plague or some other Nexus contagion that might be spread to the crew. Someone brought incense in after that; I have no idea whether the scented smoke was intended to keep me in a drugged trance or ward off disease. Maybe it was the first part of some Brikarthan burial rite.

But now, the ship had stopped moving. I could feel the ebb and flow of familiar ley lines and that was enough to rouse me. I stretched, tasting the edges of recent sense-memories and waking dreams, restoring circulation to my sluggish limbs.

"Ah. So you are alive," drawled Hazel. "You've been out for a week and a half. First you were all green and pukey, then you crawled in here and turned white as death. Captain thought you had plague. Wanted to wrap you up in a sheet and throw you overboard. Vich and me convinced him not to."

"Thank you," I whispered. "I won't ask what leverage you had to apply."

"Good idea." Hazel held up a bottle of Sethillian bloodspiced wine. "Thirsty?"

I nodded. He tossed the bottle toward me. "Drink up. Surprise waiting for you at the dock."